


I count the hours without you

by hakyeonni



Series: little incubus [7]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: the truth does not, in fact, set hakyeon free.





	

The moment Sanghyuk wakes up Hakyeon feels it, because a blinding, paralysing panic shoots through him, making him freeze in place. Hongbin cocks his head – he must feel something, too – but Hakyeon doesn’t even pay attention to him, just gets up off the lounge and sprints into the bedroom, leaving the others behind mid-conversation.

“I’m here,” he coos, rushing over to the bed and pulling Sanghyuk into his arms, stroking his hair. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

For a while Sanghyuk just shakes and clings to Hakyeon desperately, and all Hakyeon can feel is his fear and his panic, rushing through him like a freight train. Hakyeon doesn’t know what’s triggered it, he can’t discern that, so all he can do is wait and be there for Sanghyuk when he eventually comes back to himself. The others file in, led by Hongbin, who is biting his lip anxiously. Wonshik looks nonplussed, but Jaehwan’s eyes have gone black, and Hakyeon gives him a long hard stare before turning his attention back to Sanghyuk, fussing over him and touching him as much as possible.

“I remember,” Sanghyuk murmurs into Hakyeon’s neck, imprinting the words there. Hakyeon goes still. “I remember who attacked me.”

Hakyeon can only see Jaehwan out of the corner of his eye, but he certainly doesn’t miss the way he draws his wings around himself. There’s something that Jaehwan isn’t telling him, hasn’t been telling him all along, and he’s only just now starting to clue into the idea that everything isn’t fine and dandy. He’s surprised it took him this long.

“Who was it?” Hakyeon murmurs softly, slipping his hands underneath Sanghyuk’s shirt to stroke his back gently.

Sanghyuk shudders. “It was – I didn’t recognise him. An immortal. I thought he was Jaehwan at first, because he had wings. But they were white… He had long fangs and his eyes were black and I could, I could _feel_ his power,” Sanghyuk gasps.

For a moment, nobody moves. They all know what white wings could mean, what it does mean. There’s only one immortal that would have white wings, bar someone shifting. Hakyeon turns to slowly look at Jaehwan and sees him with his head in his hands, shuddering. The vampires have backed away from him, their eyes wide, but all Hakyeon can see is Jaehwan. All Hakyeon can see is his world crashing down around him.

“Jaehwan?” Hakyeon asks. His voice is steady, and he feels somewhat proud. “Why would an angel be attacking humans?”

Jaehwan looks at him, and even though his eyes are entirely black Hakyeon can sense he’s mourning. What, exactly, he doesn’t know, but he knows something’s dying, or something’s dead, and his heart hurts. “Stay here. Don’t move,” he barks, unfolding his wings. They’re so large they nearly touch the walls, and Hakyeon’s heart drops into his stomach.

“What’re you –” he begins, but Jaehwan shakes his head.

“No one _move!”_ he yells, making Sanghyuk cringe, and blinks out of sight.

Hakyeon closes his eyes and rests his cheek on Sanghyuk’s head, just so he doesn’t have to look at Wonshik, so he doesn’t have to feel the shame. He doesn’t know what’s going on, not really, but the puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place. It’s all linked to _him_ , he realises horribly – whatever this angel is doing it’s doing to get to him, and he doesn’t even know why. What has he done to deserve such wrath? What have _any_ of them done?

 _Maybe it’s not linked to you at all,_ an insidious voice whispers. _Maybe it’s Jaehwan._

“Hyung?” Hongbin asks, and his voice is high and reedy with fear. “Did you… I mean… An angel?”

Sanghyuk shudders on Hakyeon’s lap, and Hakyeon nearly mirrors him. It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. Should they be preparing for an attack right now? In the gap between knowing and understanding grows fear, and Hakyeon can’t stand it, he can’t _stand_ it.

“I knew you shouldn’t have gotten involved with him,” Wonshik mutters, and that snaps whatever patience Hakyeon was clinging onto. He opens his eyes and glares balefully up at Wonshik, baring his teeth to show shifted fangs, a language he will understand.

“I don’t need this from you right now,” he growls, holding Sanghyuk even closer, his shield.

Wonshik bares his fangs right back, and the tension in the air is so thick that even the smallest of sparks will set them off, Hakyeon knows. They haven’t fought properly like this in years. The last time they did, Hakyeon stopped talking to Wonshik for half a century. He can’t even remember what that was about, but knows it pales in comparison to this. There was no death, then, and so far three lives have been extinguished, one reborn, a comparison that has Hakyeon’s skin crawling with long-forgotten memories. Is history doomed to repeat itself for him over and over again? Is this his fate? Someone forbidden, someone dangerous. The parallels are there.

“I warned you,” Wonshik says, and he’s drawing himself up to his full height as Hongbin shrinks away. “I told you how many times to stay away? And now you’ve messed it up. How many people –”

Hakyeon shrugs out of Sanghyuk’s grasp and is just about to leap across the room to tear Wonshik’s throat out, blind with rage and fear and every other emotion that he can’t even begin to name, when Jaehwan blinks back into existence, panting and sweaty, his arms spread wide to catch Hakyeon as he lunges, feral and wild.

“Get the fuck off me,” Hakyeon snarls, stepping back and glaring at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the hell is going on?”

Jaehwan looks pained, and his hand twitches like he wants to reach for Hakyeon but is too afraid of the reaction he’d get. “Sanghyuk’s right. An angel did attack him,” he says, and his voice is even, too even.

“And you know this how?” Hakyeon blurts, taking a step back. “Why did you vanish? What do you _know_ , Jaehwan?”

Jaehwan’s lips tremble, and Hakyeon wants to touch him, to give him comfort the only way he knows how, but all he can feel is his fear. “I… suspected it, since the first killing. I had no way to know for certain. It was only until I found Sanghyuk that I knew it was an angel.”

Hakyeon is bordering on hysteria, now, but the knowledge that Jaehwan _knew_ or at least _suspected_ even before Sanghyuk was killed – his friend was killed – Sanghyuk _died_ and Jaehwan had just sat on this knowledge? They had been going so well, so, so well, Hakyeon had even begin to let himself think he was maybe perhaps sort of falling in love – and now this. There’s an odd roaring in his ears, and everyone is looking at him funny, but the one thing everyone knows about Hakyeon is he would kill for his friends. There is nothing in life he values more than that. Sanghyuk didn’t have to die, but he _did_ die, and it’s Jaehwan’s fault.

“How dare you,” Hakyeon whispers, and he realises that he’s starting to shift uncontrollably, his form changing so fast he can’t even keep track. Sanghyuk’s staring at him, no doubt horrified by the turmoil he can feel through the bond, but Hakyeon can’t stop. “How _dare_ you.”

The pain on Jaehwan’s face ages him, and he shakes his head helplessly. “This angel has been tracking me for centuries. He has a personal vendetta against me. I never knew he’d stoop this low, Hakyeon, I never thought he’d kill. If I did I never would have risked your life. He’s trying to get at me through you.”

Something there strikes a chord in Hakyeon’s heart – _is that because I’m a weakness to you?_ – but it’s far too late for that now. “Sanghyuk _died,”_ he roars, letting his anger flow through him, anger that’s not just borne of this. “Sanghyuk died and you could have prevented it.”

“I didn’t know, Hakyeon, _please,”_ Jaehwan pleads, clasping his hands together.

From the bed, Sanghyuk shifts, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Hakyeon, hyung, it’s okay.”

Hakyeon doesn’t even hear him. He’s too far gone, now. The knowledge that Wonshik is right, has been right since day one, is screaming in his head and assaulting him in every way. He never should have gotten involved with Jaehwan. Nephilim are trouble. He knows this. He knew this. How could he have been so blind? “Get out,” he snarls, shaking with rage. “Get the fuck _out_. I never want to see you again.”

“Little incubus,” Jaehwan says, and he instantly knows it’s the wrong thing to say because Hakyeon’s form starts blurring at the edges as he begins to lose his threads of who he is.

His heart is breaking over and over again, for Sanghyuk and for himself and for Jaehwan, but he can’t bear to even look at him. “I mean what I say. Get the fuck out of here. If I ever see you around here again I will fucking hand you over to that angel myself,” Hakyeon barks.

“Hyung –” Sanghyuk begins.

Jaehwan blinks away, not before Hakyeon sees that he’s crying, and that just pushes him over the edge. He rushes to his balcony door, shoving it open and gasping for the cool air on his skin, shifting on huge white wings and leaping off the edge of the railing. The itchy feeling under his skin fades somewhat as he flies away from his apartment, but he has to clench his fists and dig his nails into his skin to stop himself from crying. He’s so, so stupid. When will he ever learn?

//

The one thing Wonshik will never envy is Hakyeon’s ability to make a dramatic exit, leaving chaos in his wake. It’s happened more times than Wonshik can count, and every single time he’s left to clean up the mess that Hakyeon leaves him. This time is different, though. This time Hakyeon is more broken than Wonshik has ever seen him. He doesn’t know how they can recover from this.

“Hongbin,” he barks, because he knows he’ll feel better if he’s out _doing_ something. And the fact of the matter is that, no matter what Hakyeon says to drive Jaehwan away, they all have a target on their backs. An _angelic_ target, which is one of the worst to have. Wonshik would have no trouble dealing with false immortals – but true ones are in their own category entirely. “We’re going out. We’ll get a read on the location. Make sure he’s not skulking around.”

Wonshik can see the moment Hongbin switches on, searching the world around him for any immortals. He can feel more than Wonshik could ever dream to – he’s never met anyone as sensitive as him – and combined with Wonshik’s physical strength, nothing has ever bested them before. He’s got a funny feeling in his stomach this time, though, and knows that doesn’t bode well.

“Can you shift?” he snaps at Sanghyuk, who’s looking shell-shocked on the bed, hugging his knees desperately.

The incubus doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks straight through Wonshik, like he’s not even there. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, and he sounds so detached it’s like he’s floating away. “I… Probably.”

Wonshik narrows his eyes. Hakyeon has often accused him of being unfeeling when it comes to newborns, but the truth is that he took to immortality better than most, even though it was thrust upon him unwanted (as it most often is). Hongbin had risen and had fought straight away, and Wonshik’s glad he made him do that – he needed to cut his teeth on his new life and that was the best way to do that. Hakyeon has been coddling this boy – he’s so _young_ , in every sense of the word, and even though Wonshik was only two years older when he was turned it’s like there’s an age between them – but now Hakyeon’s not around and Wonshik could do with his help. “Well, do it. Into something threatening. Something you’d want to fight an angel in."

“What the hell does that mean?” Sanghyuk asks, exasperated, spreading his palms helplessly. “The last time I saw one of them it _killed_ me, remember?”

It’s an effort not to roll his eyes, but Wonshik does it. “I don’t care _what_ , just do it. Flick through the rolodex of animals or creatures in your head and pick one.”

The incubus just looks at him, confused. “What’s a rolodex?” 

Hongbin puts a hand on his arm, and when Wonshik turns to look at him he can see a possessiveness in his eyes, reflecting in the crimson. That startles him, a bit. How did he not notice this? Their bond isn’t as potent as it used to be, but Wonshik can still feel Hongbin – he should have felt this. “Leave him be,” Hongbin warns.

Shrugging, Wonshik turns away. He’s survived for six hundred years without newborns complicating things, and he fully plans to keep on doing exactly that. “I don’t have time to fuck around. If you’re going to stay here, don’t leave the apartment,” he calls back over his shoulder.

He’s just crossed the threshold when he feels it – a shimmering in the air behind him, an indication of a big shift, a painful one if what Hakyeon’s told him is any indication. When he turns around, a large black panther is standing next to Hongbin, rubbing its head on his thigh. Hongbin’s got the biggest grin on his face and as Wonshik watches, he reaches out and scratches behind the panther’s ears hesitantly. It would almost melt his heart if they weren’t all in mortal danger, and he clears his throat and waits for them to look at him, one set of red eyes and one set of yellow ones.

The moment they get down to the ground floor the panther springs away, melting in the night. Wonshik nods for Hongbin to go with him – he’s so newborn he probably wouldn’t even recognise an angel, and he’s already met one – and heads off in the other direction, trying to hone his senses as much as he can, regressing into the primal beast that lays within. If he’s being honest with himself he knows the angel won’t be here; they’re smarter than that. If it’s really been tracking Jaehwan for as long as he said it would have probably taken off when he did, even if Wonshik’s understanding about true immortals is that they can mask their auras and can’t feel each other.

He spends two hours circling the building, passing Hongbin and the panther twice, nodding to them into the darkness and doing another circuit, expanding his search until he’s covered most of the neighbourhood and it’s getting perilously close to dawn. As he expected, there’s nothing out there except mortals stumbling home drunk, but for once he isn’t even tempted to feed. Wonshik doesn’t need Hongbin’s sixth sense to know that there’s something big brewing, though. They can all feel that.

//

Hakyeon returns in the daylight.

It’s not intentional, he tells himself as he lands gracefully on the balcony, shifting away the wings that hurt him to look at (even if they’re the wrong colour, they should be _black)_ and sliding open the glass door. No, he’d just needed that much time to get his head in the right place, even though now he’s hurting all over, not just in his heart. It’s definitely _not_ an avoidance strategy. Wonshik and Hongbin will be asleep, sure, but that has nothing to do with it. 

He doesn’t even flinch at the panther that’s stretched out on his bed as he steps inside his room, shifting away his clothes so he’s completely naked and flopping down on the bed next to it. It’s Sanghyuk, he knows, although why he’s in a panther form Hakyeon’s not quite sure. This is probably the most drastic shift Sanghyuk’s done, and in another universe Hakyeon would feel proud. He’s too empty for that, now. Besides, this way Sanghyuk can’t talk – Hakyeon loves him, but he never shuts up when he gets going – and he can just lie there, staring at the ceiling and wondering where the fuck he went so wrong.

“Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon murmurs, and Sanghyuk responds by licking the hand closest to him. “Did the angel show up?”

Sanghyuk licks his paw instead and uses it to clean behind his ear, and Hakyeon supposes that’s a no.

“Did Jaehwan?”

Sanghyuk freezes mid-lick, his big pink tongue sticking out comically. Hakyeon can’t read his expression, of course, but the feelings he gets through the bond are indication enough. _No, he didn’t_ , Sanghyuk tells him silently, and Hakyeon feels the weight of his pain.

“Okay,” Hakyeon mutters, rolling over and burying his head in Sanghyuk’s soft fur, breathing in the musky smell of panther to distract himself.

He doesn’t know how many tears he cried when he was flying halfway to the moon that night. Maybe he’s cried himself inside out and shed all the sadness he’s ever felt, because right now all he feels is a startling, paralysing numbness that bleeds into his limbs and makes them heavy. Feeling nothing is nice. Feeling nothing is better than grieving what almost was, what could have been. Numb is good. “Numb is good,” he tells Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk licks his hair as he drifts away, letting the darkness claim him.

//

“What are we going to do?” 

Sanghyuk’s sitting at the other end of the lounge to the two vampires, who look very stiff and formal compared to him – he’s wearing his rattiest tracksuit pants, and a holey t-shirt that he’d carted over from his apartment because it comforted him. Stupid, because he could just shift it on, but it’s the principle of the thing. When he’d woken up (back in his own body, although he doesn’t remember shifting back) Hakyeon had been still sleeping, so he’d crept out to the lounge room silently, not expecting the vamps to still be here.

Wonshik raises an eyebrow. “We do nothing. We keep going about our lives as normal.”

“You heard what Jaehwan said,” Sanghyuk replies defensively, folding his arms over his chest. “If the angel was trying to get to Jaehwan through Hakyeon through… me…. Then don’t we all have a target on our backs?”

“I did hear what Jaehwan said. That thing has been _tracking_ him. Ergo, it knows he’s not here. It won’t bother us anymore,” Wonshik says confidently.

“That’s all very well and good for you, _asshole,”_ snaps Sanghyuk. “You’re a fucking vampire. You have a chance. I was made a month ago and my maker is currently huddled up under the blankets being depressed. What am I meant to do?”

Wonshik visibly softens at that, his shoulders drooping, his head dipping a bit. Sanghyuk realises that it must be hard on him, too – Hakyeon hadn’t told him how long they’ve known each other, only that it was measured in centuries. If they really are that close, then Wonshik is feeling this just as hard as everyone else. “I know. But I really do think we’re safe. Either way it got what it wanted – Jaehwan’s hurting, which means he’s weak, which means he’s an easy target. It wouldn’t make sense to go after Hakyeon, or any of us, now.”

Just when Wonshik has offered Sanghyuk a glimpse of his humanity, he snatches it away in the same breath. “How can you be so unfeeling?” Sanghyuk protests, glancing between Wonshik and Hongbin incredulously. “Jaehwan’s our friend.”

“He was never my friend,” Wonshik snaps back straight away, grimacing. “I tolerated him for Hakyeon’s sake. He had danger written all over him and I could see it from a mile away. I was right."

There’s a beat of silence where Sanghyuk has to dig his nails into his palm so he doesn’t leap over and start beating the shit out of Wonshik, because he knows that would just end badly for him. He liked, _likes_ , Jaehwan. None of this is anyone’s fault, and he’s probably the biggest victim out of all of them. Sure, Sanghyuk died, but he’s alive now – he hasn’t been hunted for century after century, hasn’t had to keep running until he can’t even see what he’s left behind. The fact that no one can see this except him is infuriating, and he gets to his feet, shaking with rage. “Get out,” he says, shaking his head. “If you’re going to be so uncaring, get the fuck out. Hakyeon doesn’t need this right now.”

Wonshik shrugs and gets up, throwing the door open and leaving without another word. Hongbin stays where he is for a moment, biting his lip, before looking up at Sanghyuk doubtfully, like he doesn’t want to move. “I’m sorry, Sanghyuk. Wonshik hyung is logical to the point of it being a fault. I sometimes don’t think he has emotions,” he says, getting off the lounge and shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly.

“What are we going to do?” Sanghyuk murmurs to himself more than Hongbin, closing his eyes. Just when he thought his world was being rebuilt again he’d had to go feeding with Hakyeon, and then he had to have that dream, and look where they are now.

“Hey,” Hongbin murmurs, touching Sanghyuk’s cheek gently, making the incubus look at him. “It’s okay. It will all work out in the end. And seriously, don’t worry. You’re completely safe here.”

Just like before, in the alley, Sanghyuk sways towards Hongbin slightly. His hand is cold where it rests against Sanghyuk’s cheek, but that’s okay, because he’s pretty sure he’s blushing. “How do you know?" 

Raising an eyebrow, Hongbin smirks, and Sanghyuk has to clench his fists again because, okay, _wow_ , Hongbin looks good with a smarmy smirk on his face. “Do you really think Jaehwan is the type to give up that easily? He won’t let anything happen to Hakyeon or you. Certainly not now.”

Before Sanghyuk can reply – to point out that it must be annoying being right all the time – Hongbin kisses him on the forehead and whirls away, closing the door behind him before Sanghyuk can even react. What the hell was _that?_ Why, in the midst of all this chaos, does Hongbin make Sanghyuk feel so fucking safe?

Instead of examining those thoughts (because that’s literally the last thing any of them need right now) Sanghyuk flops back down on the lounge and digs for the remote, switching on to some banal reality show to clear his mind. What he desperately needs is time to decompress and just process everything that’s happened, because he can’t quite believe it all. Perhaps he should hate Jaehwan just as Wonshik seems to; he would certainly have a reason to. But he just can’t bring himself to do that. Jaehwan’s suffering as much as anyone in all this.

//

Hakyeon doesn’t move from his bed for three days.

He tries. And by that he means he considers it. Sure, he goes to the bathroom, and sometimes he drinks water, but he doesn't really need to eat food at all so he can forego that entirely. Bed’s comforting. Bed won’t hurt him. Bed won’t rip him apart. Sanghyuk spends some time in there with him, just stroking his back or playing with his hair, which helps. It lessens the burden. He’s sure Sanghyuk can feel how much he’s hurting through the bond, and feels terrible for placing that on him, which makes him feel worse. A vicious cycle. What a shitty maker he is.

It’s so stupid of him to have taken pride in the fact that all these years he’s never fallen in love with anyone. Oh, sure, there had been crushes here and there, but nothing that escalated further than that. Who needed love? Mortals died and withered away, and immortals had more drama than was worth dealing with. Hakyeon had the love from his friends, and he had the overwhelming power that he got from feeding, and that was enough. Until it wasn’t, until Jaehwan had swept into his life and Hakyeon had found himself addicted even when he knew he shouldn’t have been.

And now look where they are.

Sanghyuk wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t met Jaehwan.

He and Wonshik wouldn’t be fighting if he hadn’t met Jaehwan.

Those two innocent souls, the succubus and the incubus, wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t met Jaehwan.

Hakyeon wouldn’t have his heart ripped into pieces if he hadn’t met Jaehwan. 

Because that’s what it comes down to. It’s the angel that did all this, sure – the angel that might be after him, just to hurt Jaehwan – but Jaehwan is ultimately responsible. _Hakyeon_ is ultimately responsible. And the guilt is so suffocating that he can barely breathe, sometimes, finds himself sitting bolt upright and gasping for oxygen, threads of desperation choking him. He’s got more than enough guilt to last a lifetime. More souls weighing on his conscience. How many more people would have had to die for he and Jaehwan to keep – to keep living their facade?

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk is pleading with him. “Please come with me to feed. I know you need to.”

Sanghyuk needs to feed more than he does, probably. The big shift would have chewed through a chunk of energy, and he needs to feed more often than Hakyeon, anyway. But Hakyeon can’t move. He is rooted to his mattress, to his cocoon, to his little bubble of warmth, and he rolls over so he doesn’t have to look at Sanghyuk, doesn’t have to feel the shame.

Sanghyuk leaves, not before Hakyeon hears him crying. He feels vaguely guilty, in the detached way that he feels anything that’s not pain. But still he cannot bring himself to move. He drifts, falling back to sleep, and when he wakes up Sanghyuk has brought someone home for him, and he feeds disinterestedly. It’s possibly the least enjoyable orgasm Hakyeon’s ever helped someone have, and he doesn’t even feel good about the energy flowing into him. He doesn’t feel anything. He is numb.

Numb is good, he tells himself. Numb erases every memory of Jaehwan, of how soft his wings were, of how when they kissed sometimes his nose hit Hakyeon first instead of his lips, of the way his eyes crinkled up when he laughed, of how fucking beautiful his tattoos were, how Hakyeon could make him come undone. Numb is good. Numb is good. Numb is good. 

//

“How is he?”

Hongbin’s voice is comforting, even through the phone, and Sanghyuk bites his lip. It shouldn’t be, but it is anyway, and maybe it’s time to examine that in more detail. “The same. He won’t really leave bed. I can feel he’s getting hungry again. I brought him someone two weeks ago.”

For the first week or so, Hakyeon had refused to get out of bed at all, except to guzzle litres of water at a time or to use the bathroom. Otherwise he’d stayed underneath the covers, hugging pillows and staring into space. Sanghyuk had brought him food, but he ate very little. He’d brought him books and begged him to read them. He’d brought himself and had laid there for hours just because he knew the skin contact helped. He’d had brought someone to feed on, and Hakyeon had, although he didn’t take any pleasure from it. After that first week he’d started to become a little more human – once, Sanghyuk had gotten home from doing the shopping to find him sitting on the lounge watching the news – but improvement was slow. Sanghyuk doesn’t really know what to _do_ now that he’s been thrust into the world as an immortal without someone to babysit him; he’s mostly been feeding off kisses and handjobs, too scared to do anything more in case he gets carried away and kills again. So he just keeps the apartment tidy, cooks for himself (and for Hakyeon, but he barely eats), and plays video games to while away the time. He doesn’t know how else to help.

“I thought so,” Hongbin sighs, and Sanghyuk can feel his exasperation from here. Hakyeon practically raised him alongside Wonshik; he must be feeling this just as acutely as the rest of them. “He’s not trying to starve himself, is he?”

Sanghyuk closes his eyes and centres himself, breathing in and out slowly, feeling for the tenuous threads of connection that link him to Hakyeon in the other room. All he gets is a desperate, deep melancholy that’s more chronic than acute – which explains why he’s not being smacked in the face with it – and is ringed by hunger. It’s bad, but it’s not terrible. “He probably has another day before he has to feed,” Sanghyuk replies, opening his eyes and snapping back to himself. “So he’s alright for now, I think.” 

“Good,” Hongbin mumbles, and Sanghyuk hears the beeps of a microwave in the background. He must be heating up dinner, and the thought of that makes Sanghyuk wrinkle his nose in mild disgust. “I never thought a nephilim would be good for him… But when he was with Jaehwan he was happier than I’ve ever seen him before.”

Sanghyuk rolls over onto his side and curls into a ball, chewing his lip. “I wish they’d just sort their shit out and get back together. This is awful for _everyone.”_

“From what I’ve seen, interspecies relationships never work out anyway,” Hongbin says under his breath.

It’s just a stupid throwaway comment, and Sanghyuk is sure he didn’t mean anything of it – but it still stings, and the fact that Sanghyuk knows _why_ it stings is worse. If he was looking for an indicator that his feelings for Hongbin have gone from ‘you’re kinda hot’ to ‘wow holy shit I like you a lot’, this is a huge one. It couldn’t be more glaring if it reached through the phone and hit him about the head. But denial is the safest strategy, so he laughs like Hongbin didn’t hear his breath hitch. “Could be worse. How about demons and angels?”

“Have you been reading romance novels again?” Hongbin asks, and Sanghyuk considers throwing the phone out the window at the sound of his smarmy laugh.

“How the – who the hell told you that?” Sanghyuk growls, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I left them all at my apartment for that exact reason. Apparently there’s no such thing as privacy in this weird friend group.”

“You suck dick to live. Privacy is the least of your issues. Besides, who am I to judge if you like reading such titles as _Mr. Jaguar_ and –”

Sanghyuk nearly _does_ throw his phone out the window. “You fucking asshole. I’m going to kill Hakyeon. I’m going to kill _you.”_

“And how are you going to do that?” Hongbin replies, right before Sanghyuk hears him rip a blood bag open with his teeth. “I’m a lot stronger than you. Don’t make me get physical.”

 _Woah_. Sanghyuk tries to repress the shiver that goes down his spine at Hongbin’s voice, which has suddenly dropped low and sultry, and even though he’s currently sucking down the contents of a blood bag Sanghyuk feels all the blood in his head rush directly to his dick. _Damn_ it. “Um. I have a better idea,” he mumbles, even though that better idea right at the moment is pinning Hongbin up against the wall and kissing him until he comes undone.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Hongbin asks, in between slurps.

“You and me. A game of Mario Kart. The winner gets bragging rights,” Sanghyuk replies immediately. “I’ll whoop your ass.”

He rolls out of bed and heads into the lounge room (resisting the urge to poke his head into Hakyeon’s bedroom, because he know what he’ll see: a pile of blankets, maybe a foot sticking out. A quick check of their bond shows that Hakyeon is sleeping, anyway, so there’s really no point). It’s only until he’s crouching in front of Hakyeon’s TV (Sanghyuk has very nearly given up on going back to his apartment, and has moved most of his stuff to Hakyeon’s) and fiddling with his Nintendo 64 that he realises that Hongbin hasn’t replied. “You still there?”

“Um,” Hongbin says, and he sounds small. “What the hell is Mario Kart?”

Sanghyuk nearly falls over. “How do you not know what Mario Kart is?!” 

“I was born in 1895! I was turned in 1919! The only reason I even know what phones are is because Hakyeon showed me,” Hongbin replies defensively. “You were made _yesterday_. Anyway, what’s Mario Kart?”

Hongbin is so easy to get along with that Sanghyuk had forgotten that he’s nearly a hundred years old. Jaehwan gives off a vibe that he’s seen more than Sanghyuk could ever hope to, and even Wonshik has a certain ancient air around him, but Hakyeon and Hongbin don’t come across like that in the slightest. “It’s a… video game? Do you know those?” Sanghyuk begins, not really sure where to begin explaining Mario Kart. 

“I’ve read about them,” Hongbin offers, and Sanghyuk rolls his eyes.

“Right. Okay. Well I can explain more in person. Just come over, okay?” Sanghyuk replies.

Hongbin says he won’t be long, and they hang up, Sanghyuk staring at the phone like it’s about to leap up and bite him. Will he be like that, one day? Obsolete as the world moves on around him? It’s still hard to comprehend that he’s immortal, because when he’s not hungry or feeding he just feels… normal. Maybe as the years pass it will start to settle in, like it has for the rest of them. Sanghyuk doesn’t know if he likes that. 

Shaking himself out of those thoughts, he gets to his feet and heads to the kitchen, figuring he may as well make some food for the three of them. He doesn’t know if Hakyeon will eat it, but it’s worth a try.

//

After Sanghyuk thrusts a controller into Hongbin’s hands the moment he walks in the door – noting that he’s wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking sexier than should really be allowed – and guides him through the controls, he sits back and lets Hongbin play a few rounds against the computer. Or he tries to sit back, really, and instead munches anxiously on biscuits and resists the urge to rip the controller out of Hongbin’s hands. He was practically raised on this game and seeing someone play it so poorly is giving him anxiety. He has to keep reminding himself that Hongbin was born in – when was it? 1895? Something like that. It’s still hard to watch, and he finds himself biting his nails, shifting them longer and biting them again ad nauseam just for something to do. 

“This is hard,” Hongbin mutters under his breath as he finishes last, again. “Why do you think this is fun?”

“Because it _is_ fun, once you get good at it. Well, not good, but passable. You’ll get the hang of it,” Sanghyuk says encouragingly, ripping his eyes away from the screen to stare at Hongbin’s hands shamelessly.

It’s not until Hongbin falls off the edge of rainbow road for approximately the eight hundredth time that Sanghyuk’s patience, which is extremely tenuous at best (and has only lasted this long because he keeps staring at Hongbin’s arms and forearms, and the way he sticks a tongue out in concentration, and the way his fangs slide out when he gets frustrated) and non-existent at worst, finally snaps. “Give me that,” he mutters, reaching for the controller and tugging it out of Hongbin’s hands smoothly.

“Hey!” Hongbin snaps, and when Sanghyuk glances at him he can see he’s scowling, his eyes red. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Don’t be incompetent,” Sanghyuk replies evenly. Hongbin doesn’t even bother to reply, just lunges for the controller, and Sanghyuk holds it above his head but Hongbin is too fast – _damn_ that vampiric speed – and wraps one hand around it and _tugs_. 

But Sanghyuk doesn’t let go. Which means that when Hongbin yanks the controller towards him, Sanghyuk comes with, and they both go toppling backwards. Sanghyuk ends up lying on Hongbin’s chest, their legs tangled together, his face buried against Hongbin’s neck. He’s still got his hands around the controller, but he drops it when he realises exactly where he is. Oh. _Oh_.

“Sanghyuk?” Hongbin breathes, and Sanghyuk has to resist a shiver as he pulls back slightly.

Their faces are alarmingly close. Sanghyuk can see the pores on Hongbin’s nose, the way his eyelashes fan across his cheek when he blinks, the wetness of his lips when he licks them, flashing fang. His eyes are red, and Sanghyuk knows his are glowing a matching yellow. His heart is racing, and if he can hear his pulse rushing and thumping in his head he knows Hongbin can hear it, too. That thought makes him blush, but he still can’t move away from where he is, doesn’t know if he wants to.

He doesn’t know who kisses who first, only that all of a sudden they _are_ and Sanghyuk nearly groans with relief. Surreal, it’s completely surreal because Hongbin’s hands are diving underneath his shirt to palm at his back and his fangs are pressing against Sanghyuk’s lip but Sanghyuk just can’t get enough, he wants more, and they’re as close as close can be but he flattens himself into Hongbin even more. This is what he’s wanted for what feels like an age, and Hongbin is so warm and hot underneath him that he’s lightheaded and gasping after just a few seconds. It’s strange to be kissing like this and not feeding, as he would be from a mortal, but at the same time it’s right. He doesn’t really want to feed on Hongbin, no, he just wants the unadulterated physicality that he’s getting.

“Not here,” he groans as Hongbin slips his hands under the waistband of his pants to grab his ass. “Not on the fucking living room floor.”

“Fucking on the living room floor sounds fun,” Hongbin mumbles in reply, but he gathers Sanghyuk into his arms and stands up, striding towards the bedroom.

Sanghyuk is not small in any sense, but Hongbin certainly makes him feel like it. It’s just vampiric strength, he knows, but he resists the urge to curl into Hongbin’s chest and cling to him. He only has enough time to splay his arms out before Hongbin dumps him on the bed unceremoniously, crawling up the length of Sanghyuk’s body to kiss him again. Sanghyuk arches up underneath him, completely helpless and completely loving it. He still can’t quite believe that this started over a spat about Mario Kart, but he certainly isn’t going to complain, not when Hongbin drags his nails down Sanghyuk’s hip, making him gasp and writhe. 

“Can you – I mean, could you shift your shirt off?” Hongbin whispers in Sanghyuk’s ear, and the fact that he’s being coy while simultaneously grinding his cock into Sanghyuk’s thigh makes his head spin.

“I’ll do you one better,” Sanghyuk mumbles in response, and shifts away all his clothes so he’s naked. “Betcha can’t do _that,”_ he says, smirking at the expression of wonder on Hongbin’s face as he looks Sanghyuk up and down. It’s almost like he can’t quite believe what’s happening, which Sanghyuk can relate to.

Hongbin raises an eyebrow. “I can do other things. I could throw you across the room,” he says, and his eyes flash red.

“Yeah?” Sanghyuk says, yanking Hongbin’s shirt up and over his head. “I can whoop your ass in Mario Kart, so who’s the real winner here?”

Oh, shit. Where the hell has Hongbin been hiding _that_ body? If Sanghyuk knew he looked like this with his shirt off, he would have ripped it off him long ago and stopped all the fucking around right there. Hongbin watches Sanghyuk give him a once-over with a smirk, and then leans down to kiss him, and Sanghyuk lets his eyes flutter shut as he fiddles with his belt, resisting the urge to touch himself to get off because he knows it will be all the more sweeter when they’re both naked. His shapeshifting ability is both a blessing and a curse, because it means he’s kind of desperate to get Hongbin naked, but has to go through the normal steps. How the hell does Hakyeon deal with it?

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Hongbin murmurs, his lips falling to Sanghyuk’s neck, and then he buries his face there. Sanghyuk doesn’t even have to see him to know there’s a blush rising on his cheeks, and he just smiles and presses a kiss into Hongbin’s hair. 

“Hongbin,” he breathes, finally sliding his belt out of his belt loops and chucking it on the floor. “We can do all that sweet shit later. I just – _fuck_ me, already, Christ.”

Hongbin’s breath hitches, but obediently he trails his hand down Sanghyuk’s chest to wrap around his cock, his teeth on Sanghyuk’s neck. “Someone’s impatient,” he says, but his voice is throatier than usual and Sanghyuk knows he’s having the effect he hoped for.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been waiting a while for this,” Sanghyuk reminds him.

Without another word, Hongbin sits back to yank off his pants hurriedly, and when he lays back down on Sanghyuk they both gasp and arch into each other, intoxicated by the feeling of all that _skin_ , how intimate it is, how warm Sanghyuk is compared to Hongbin. The desperation is so easy to read on Hongbin – he’s patently open with his emotions and this is no exception. It’s there in his eyes, flashing red occasionally, and it’s there when he kisses his way down Sanghyuk’s chest to lick a stripe up his cock, grinning when Sanghyuk whines, begging for more. Maybe he should be concerned that someone with fangs is about to give him a blowjob, but he’s too desperate for the feel of Hongbin’s mouth that he doesn’t really care.

“Where’s your lube?” Hongbin asks nonchalantly.

Before Sanghyuk can answer, though, Hongbin sinks his mouth down onto Sanghyuk’s cock and words are suddenly very hard to form. He makes a vague gesture to his bedside table, and fumbles with the drawer, his fingers scrabbling against the wood. Hongbin’s – his _mouth_ and his tongue – god _damn_. He doesn’t know how he manages to open the drawer and grab the lube when Hongbin is sucking his cock so sinfully good, his head bobbing up and down, but he does, and he presses it into Hongbin’s hand and buries his hand in his hair, keeping his head down, moaning helplessly. 

“You’re lucky I don’t need to breathe,” Hongbin mumbles when Sanghyuk lets him pull back, wiping saliva off his chin and winking at him.

Sanghyuk smirks. “So you could theoretically stay there forever?” he hums as Hongbin kisses up his stomach and his chest to lick his nipple, keeping his fangs clear.

“Shut up,” Hongbin says not unkindly, uncapping the lube and squirting some on his fingers. Just the sight of that makes Sanghyuk’s heart race, and Hongbin hears it, because he raises an eyebrow at him. “Spread your legs.” 

Sanghyuk does, because he likes being bossed around and for once it’s not worth it to shoot back with a smart-ass comment. He’s just about to ask Hongbin if he’s been thinking about this for a while, too, when Hongbin runs a slick finger over his entrance and he whines quietly, digging his fingers into Hongbin’s forearm. When Hongbin slides his finger inside Sanghyuk he closes his eyes and bites his lip, revelling in the feeling of this and knowing that fuck, this is real, this is Hongbin who’s fingering him slowly and torturously, and this is all he’s ever wanted. All he ever _needs_. “More,” he pants, and when Hongbin doesn’t obey he shifts his nails longer and digs them in harder. _“More.”_

Hongbin obeys by sliding another finger inside him, and when Sanghyuk opens his eyes he sees he’s accidentally drawn blood. Whoops. That wasn’t what he’d intended, because now Hongbin’s looking at the blood running down his arm with red eyes and fangs bared and he looks _feral_ , and it shouldn’t be hot, it really really shouldn’t be hot, but it is. He moans, inadvertently, and Hongbin’s eyes snap up to his face. Sanghyuk’s not scared in the slightest, but it’s intimidating to be on the end of so much want – so much _need_ – and he resists the urge to shiver, instead props himself up on his elbows and spreads his legs wider, making sure Hongbin catches the way his eyes are glowing a fierce yellow, evidence of his arousal. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes, but it turns into more of a choked sob as Hongbin crooks his fingers inside him. “Please, Hongbin – _fuck.”_

“Since you asked so nicely,” Hongbin replies, but his voice is low and ragged and harsher than Sanghyuk’s ever heard it, and there’s no other words to be said as he wraps Sanghyuk’s legs around his waist and aligns his cock to Sanghyuk’s entrance, waiting for Sanghyuk to nod before pushing in slowly and smoothly.

Sanghyuk exhales slowly as Hongbin slides into him, filling him up, and it’s almost too much because _christ_ they fit so well together, and why they’ve waited this long (it’s not really a long time, he reminds himself, even if it’s so hard to believe) is completely beyond him. Hongbin has his eyes shut, and Sanghyuk touches him on the face gently, reverently, bringing him back to earth. He looks at Sanghyuk, and there’s such warring emotions on his face that Sanghyuk suddenly finds it hard to breathe – lust clashing with affection, the primal urge to _fight_ and _fuck_ fighting with wanting to take this slow. Sanghyuk doesn’t know if that’s for his sake, and he doesn’t really know how to say _pin me down and fuck me until I can’t speak_ , so he just clenches around Hongbin and whines.

“Fuck, Sanghyuk,” Hongbin breathes as he starts fucking Sanghyuk, slowly at first, but when it’s clear he’s not going to break Sanghyuk, his thrusts going deeper, harder. “God.” 

All Sanghyuk can say is Hongbin’s name, and that’s all he wants to say, all he needs to say. Hongbin feels so fucking good, and the affection that Sanghyuk harbours for him just intensifies everything, even if Hongbin’s hips are snapping into his with a voracity that leaves him breathless. It’s the most natural thing in the world to tug Hongbin into a kiss, searching and reaching, and gasping when he finds what he was looking for – the tenuous threads of connection, of Hongbin’s soul, so pure and bright and _Hongbin_ that he digs his nails into Hongbin’s back as he tastes it, watching his eyes change colour from red to a light orange, attempting to glow yellow but not quite getting there. Hakyeon had told him that this was taboo, but it doesn’t feel taboo – it just feels _right_ , and he has to break the connection himself before he gets carried away and takes more than he needs. _God_ , Hongbin tastes so good, he feels so good, he’s everything Sanghyuk’s ever wanted or needed.

“Did you just –” Hongbin gasps, his eyes wide, and Sanghyuk winces.

“Yeah,” he chokes out.

Hongbin grins, and wraps his hand around Sanghyuk’s throat loosely, not pressing down, just reminding him who’s in charge. “Cheeky,” he growls.

But something abruptly changes, then. Sanghyuk guesses that Hongbin must feel his pulse thudding underneath his thumb, because his eyes flash red again and then he’s right _there_ , nuzzling at Sanghyuk’s neck, the press of his fangs cold against Sanghyuk’s skin. He’s not biting down, but he wants to – he’s trembling all over, and Sanghyuk tightens his legs around his waist, keeping him there. “Do it,” he whispers, barely loud enough for Hongbin to hear. “Fucking do it. Bite me.”

With a growl, feral and animalistic, Hongbin does. At first it’s a flash of pain and Sanghyuk wants to recoil, but the moment Hongbin latches on and begins drinking the pain fades away and transforms into a wave of pleasure, so base and vulgar and _right_ that he groans helplessly. The worst part, or maybe the best part, is that Hongbin keeps fucking him throughout, and the combination of his cock and his – his _fangs_ is making Sanghyuk slowly lose his mind. He can feel it melting away as he’s reduced to pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. There’s a weird pulling feeling in his chest, the same thing he used to feel when Hakyeon fed on him, and he wonders what he tastes like to Hongbin. He wonders if he’ll ever get sick of this.

When Hongbin pulls back, he’s got blood dripping down his chin, and when he kisses Sanghyuk all he can taste is blood, his own blood, but he doesn’t mind. Hongbin’s gasping and shuddering and he’s close, Sanghyuk knows that much, and he doesn’t really know how to get him there except drag his nails down his back and arch up, not caring that he’s bleeding on his pillow, not caring about anything. 

Hongbin comes moaning Sanghyuk’s name brokenly, and Sanghyuk thinks it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

They lie there for a while, Hongbin lapping at Sanghyuk’s neck until he gives the wound one last decisive swipe and closes it, pulling out of Sanghyuk and collapsing on the bed next to him. It’s only when Sanghyuk lies down next to him and strokes his hair that his eyes snap open like he’s forgotten something, and Sanghyuk has to heave a sigh of relief. It’s not that Hongbin was scary, per se, but he was _different_ when he was – when he was fucking Sanghyuk savagely. It’s nice to know he’s back to his usual self.

“You didn’t come,” Hongbin blurts, sitting up and blinking at Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk smiles softly and sits up too, trailing his fingers up and down Hongbin’s arm, admiring the way his cold skin can still rise up in goosebumps. “No, but that’s okay.”

Hongbin shakes his head so fast he becomes a blur. “No. I’ve got a better idea. Come on my face.”

How the hell Hongbin can say such filthy things, with a completely straight face and looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, Sanghyuk wouldn’t know. He has to close his eyes briefly and clench his fist in the sheets to ground himself, because, _shit_. It’s not like he hasn’t jacked off to the thought of that for the past month or anything. “Okay,” he says faintly, feeling weirdly lightheaded, watching as Hongbin scoots down on the bed and waggles his eyebrows deliciously. 

It doesn’t take Sanghyuk long to come at all, especially when Hongbin’s looking up at him through his eyelashes, looking so innocent and such a contrast to how he was just a few minutes before, wild and feral. He looks pretty, like this, but Sanghyuk thinks he looks even prettier with come on his face. 

//

“Hyung,” Sanghyuk calls as he traipses down the hallway to Hakyeon’s room, carrying a box of delivery fried chicken he’d ordered as a special treat.

After he and Hongbin had laid in each other’s arms for a while, not saying anything but just immersing themselves in each other, Hongbin had kissed him gently and told him to go and spend some time with Hakyeon. “He needs you right now. You’re the closest friend he’s got, since Wonshik’s being a stubborn bastard,” he’d murmured, his thumb skimming over Sanghyuk’s cheekbone. 

But when Sanghyuk walks in Hakyeon’s room (Hongbin having slipped out an hour ago), he’s sitting up on the bed glaring at him suspiciously, his hair rumpled and messy. His gaze is sharp and focused for the first time in two weeks, and he raises one eyebrow. “You and Hongbin, huh?”

Sanghyuk debates dropping the chicken and running, although Hakyeon could probably catch him easily if he wanted to, and throwing it at Hakyeon’s head to distract him. “Um,” he says, erring. “Um.” 

“When were you going to tell me about that?” Hakyeon asks. 

“How did you know?”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes and stretches, and it’s almost like he’s coming back to himself. “You think I wouldn’t notice you two fucking right next door? Not to mention what I felt through the bond. It was all very cute, including when –”

“Okay, hyung, stop,” Sanghyuk babbles, stalking over to the bed and dumping the box in front of Hakyeon and trying to shift away the blush that’s creeping up his neck unsuccessfully. “I didn’t want to tell you because…” 

Hakyeon’s face falls, and any hopes that Sanghyuk had about him starting to get better, starting to heal, are completely crushed. He just crumples, his shoulders caving in and his head dropping, and Sanghyuk feels sick. Selfish, selfish, how could he be so selfish? He deserves a life too, and he’s not about to set himself on fire to keep Hakyeon warm, but they shouldn’t have been so fucking blatant about it. It’s just rubbing it in at this point.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry,” Sanghyuk murmurs, sitting down on the bed next to Hakyeon and carding his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think… I’m sorry.”

With trembling fingers Hakyeon reaches out and snags a piece of chicken, which makes Sanghyuk feel slightly better. He _knew_ Hakyeon wouldn’t be able to resist this. “It’s alright,” he says quietly, but he’s gone again. He’s retreated back inside himself where Sanghyuk can’t follow, where nothing but his demons lurk. There’s nothing he can do.

//

“Little incubus,” Jaehwan murmurs, running his hand through Hakyeon’s hair.

 _Wrong, wrong,_ his senses are screaming at him even as he takes a step closer and slides his arms around Jaehwan’s waist. He doesn’t marvel at how they fit together anymore. It’s not a surprise. They were meant to be from the beginning. “Jaehwan,” he sighs, and he feels more at home here than he ever has. _The angel_ , his head yells. _Sanghyuk, Hongbin, Wonshik, you’re willing to throw them away for this?_

 _Yes_ , Hakyeon thinks, his hand tightening on Jaehwan’s waist as he leans in –

A hand closes around his ankle and pulls him backwards, yanking him out of his dream even as he tries to cling to it desperately. Sanghyuk, it’s Sanghyuk picking him up, but still he struggles, _take me back, I want to go back._

“Snap out of it,” Sanghyuk growls, grabbing Hakyeon’s chin and forcing his head around. “Who _are_ you?”

Good question. Hakyeon lost himself a while ago, around about the time he first laid eyes on Jaehwan, and he’s been trying to figure that out since. But he just glares back at Sanghyuk, aware they’re in the kitchen only because the tiles are cold on his feet, and resists the urge to shoulder him aside and go back to bed. “Leave me alone.”

“You need to feed, and I’m _not_ your errand boy,” replies Sanghyuk through his teeth.

Sanghyuk grabs him by the wrist and tugs him out the door and down the hallway to the lift before Hakyeon can even protest. Some small part of him knew this was coming, because he’s been testing Sanghyuk’s patience for a while now and it was bound to snap sooner or later. But he also knows, in some far away corner of his mind, that Sanghyuk’s right. He needs to feed. Which is why he doesn’t protest as Sanghyuk leads him out of the apartment and down the street, his bare feet slapping on the pavement. He also doesn’t protest because he is absolutely, definitely the worst maker in the history of the universe (alright, he’s not quite as bad as Soyeong because at least his incompetence comes from ignorance rather than malice, and he’s certainly not as bad as whoever turned Wonshik and left him for dead in the woods, but his point still stands) and Sanghyuk doesn’t deserve this. 

“Shift,” Sanghyuk growls over his shoulder. “People are looking.”

Hakyeon does, even though it burns through the last of his energy. Wearing proper clothes again, even if it’s just jeans and a slim-fitted t-shirt, feels weird. He still wants to go back to bed but that’s not really an option right now. The urge to feed is starting to overpower him, and he shifts their grip so he’s clutching onto Sanghyuk’s hand, lets himself get led down the street. He fidgets when Sanghyuk makes a pit stop at a 7-11, unable to stand still because he feels weirdly itchy. Is this what depression is like? Or is this just heartbreak?

“Drink this.” Sanghyuk hands him a red bull with a small smile.

Rolling his eyes, Hakyeon unscrews the cap and takes a long swallow. Energy drinks are a bit of a farce, really, because they only recharge him for a bit and the urge to feed is still there, but it’s a distraction and one he welcomes. “Is this bribery?”

Sanghyuk laughs, although it’s more one of relief than anything else, Hakyeon can tell. “No, hyung. If I wanted to bribe you I’d give you something more extravagant than a red bull.”

“Yeah, good. Keep that in mind. I’m very open to bribes,” Hakyeon replies, taking another sip.

The pain that’s always with him is still there, sitting heavy and weighty on his chest, but as they begin walking again he feels just a little better. It’s hard not to, when he’s in a city he loves with a friend by his side. It’d be better if J – if someone else was here, of course, but perhaps it’s time to accept that that’s over, now, and it’s for the best. People shouldn’t have to die for two people to be together. That’s a big fucking sign that something’s not right. It’s about time Hakyeon started realising that fact. 

It’s about time he started forgetting Jaehwan.

//

Jaehwan follows.

It’s easy to follow them. He could recognise Hakyeon’s aura from a mile away. He could pick him out of a crowd of ten thousand people if he needed to. He will never be able to forget him, not ever. He’s not even going to try.

He spreads his wings and lifts off, soaring through the air and landing on the next rooftop with agile steps, cat-like grace. Something he inherited from his father, the father he’s never known. Whatever angel decided that love was worth the punishment. Jaehwan kind of gets that, he really does. He’d do anything for Hakyeon.

Off to his left, on the opposite rooftop, Taekwoon reappears, spreading his wings and landing in a crouch. The weapon clutched in his hand burns with a holy light, so pure that it hurts Jaehwan’s eyes to look at. It was not meant for him. That much is painfully obvious. Instead his weapon, the thin, light blade he’s grasping in his right hand, is forged from earth. Demons get theirs from Hell, angels get their from Heaven, and nephilim get earth. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it always will be.

There’s a moment where they’re just standing there, facing off against each other while Hakyeon walks the street below. “Hyung, I don’t think…” Sanghyuk says. Jaehwan ignores him and cocks his head slightly. A challenge. _Come and get it._

Taekwoon’s fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move. There’s too much at stake for that, now. For the first time in over a thousand years there’s more at play than just the two of them, glaring at each other with weapons readied. The stakes are higher. Jaehwan hates that it’s Hakyeon that’s changed the game up, because he’s already seen Hakyeon get hurt once because of his actions. He doesn’t want it to happen again, and he’ll do anything in his power to stop it.

Of course, Taekwoon will do anything in his power to kill Jaehwan. It’s not a question of _if_ he will attack, it’s a question of _when_ and _how_ , and that’s what Jaehwan’s been trying to figure out. He thought he’d given up on figuring out Taekwoon centuries ago, but apparently not. He twirls his weapon listlessly, his wings twitching. Below them Hakyeon laughs.

Silently, Taekwoon spreads his wings and takes off, flying to the next rooftop along, following the false immortals’ progress down the street. Jaehwan does, too, a mirror – identical but separate, white and black, heaven and earth, all mixed in. He feels like he’s walking on a knife-edge – make one wrong move and Taekwoon will attack, and unless Jaehwan plays his cards very carefully Hakyeon will stand no chance against him. The last time he and Taekwoon came to blows they were both lucky to escape with their lives. They are too equally matched. Perhaps that’s why Taekwoon is rabidly obsessed with finding him, has followed him to every corner of the globe and will continue to. And yet, and yet, here they are, facing off across rooftops while Hakyeon walks oblivious below.

 _Mine_ , Jaehwan thinks, and spreads his wings.

**Author's Note:**

> pls don't hate me
> 
> thanks for reading ♡


End file.
